


Martini Magique

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Dream Bubbles, F/F, F/M, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Sloppy Makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 14:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8493415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After deciding to throw a house party in order to celebrate the reunion of all of her friends, Roxy Lalonde finds that, though she is happy for her dancestor for finding love, she has never felt more envious. When she ends up bumping into a complete stranger who also happens to be geeky and lonely, however, the two begin to get along straight away and manage to cheer each other up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm rather fond of this pairing for some bizarre reason, so I thought that I might as well put finger to keyboard and write about it. I must admit that I was very tempted to take things a bit further, but I wasn't in the mood to produce anything explicit.
> 
> Please don't hesitate to point out any errors, no matter how minor they may be or how pedantic it may make you seem.
> 
> Fun fact: I wrote a sizeable portion of this work whilst under the influence of a martini or two. I hope that it doesn't show.
> 
> Enjoy,  
> ~ Georgie

"Rooose."

"Yes?"

"Rooooosie."

"What is it?"

You glance up from your empty shot glass and turn your head towards the young woman who is sat beside you. She is clothed in a brilliant, orange dress that would not look out of place at a posh wedding reception or soiree. Her pale face displays its usual deadpan expression, and she is holding her second martini of the evening in a manner that is so grandiose, you can only assume that it pertains to some sort of classy code of etiquette.

A small snigger escapes you. _As if she actually cares about any of that._ You know that, like yourself, she only desires the marvellous consequences of several units of alcohol.

You stare in amusement at her hand and drink until you remember that she is waiting, with a polite yet scathing patience, for you to speak. You can feel her gaze growing more piercing by the second, picking you apart in the uncanny way that it tends to do. She has often claimed that the effect is unintentional, but she happens to be a very good liar.

"When's Kanaya gonna be here, Rose?" you ask, your tone of voice echoing that of an impatient toddler. You think that you see her expression change and her lavender eyes light up upon hearing the name of her girlfriend, but the transformation is gone in an instant.

"I can't imagine she'll be much longer," she replies. She places her glass on the table and sits up so that she is no longer slouched over. "Will you promise not to bite when she arrives?"

The corners of her mouth move upwards somewhat, and you frown, mirroring her position. "Now, Rose," you say, doing your best to sound authoritative, "you're the only motherdaughter I have. I can't just let you go fiddlin' around with any old troll you meet. Need to check 'er out first."

"You should probably keep a closer eye on Dave and his troll friends if you're so concerned about the love lives of your children. There are rumours." She takes a sip of her martini. "Oh, and Kanaya isn't just 'any old troll'. I'd say she's quite an extraordinary specimen."

"That _is_ a compliment, correct?"

You giggle at Rose as her cheeks turn red. She spins around to face the source of the soft, deliberate voice, almost sending her drink flying to the floor in the process. A tall, elegant troll wearing a quiet, jade green dress is positioned just a few metres away, arms folded and brow furrowed in a display of mock disappointment. You have met a large number of alternate versions of her in the past whilst asleep, but you have neither seen nor conversed with the living, breathing incarnation that is stood before you. She begins to approach Rose, her gleaming skin making the oranges and yellows of the latter more radiant than ever.

"H-hello, Kanaya," says Rose, placing her hands in her lap. It is not long before she has regained her composure in its entirety. "You look nice."

The newcomer takes a seat next to her, smiling. "As do you." She gestures towards the martini. "I trust that you haven't had too many so far?"

"Oh, I've completely lost track," says Rose with a simper. She takes another sip from the glass. "Can't you tell? I'm sure you're well aware of how much my grip on reality loosens with just one of these insidious beverages. At this stage—and I don't often say this—you'd be better off asking Roxy."

Upon the mention of your name, Kanaya leans forth and turns to you, her expression warm. "Hello, Roxy. Regardless of how redundant it may seem, common courtesy dictates that I ought to be polite and introduce myself. I'm Kanaya."

"Sup," you reply, giving her a slothful wave. "Rose's told me all about you."

She raises her eyebrows. "I dread to think."

"No, no, no…" you say, eyes widening. "No, she says nice things. Good things! Nice things like really… good things." A mischievous grin breaks out on your face. "Like how you're the hottest damn dame she's ever had the pleasu—"

"What my motherdaughter's trying to get across," says Rose, her voice curt, "is that you have absolutely nothing to worry about—a fact that I'm certain you already knew."

"Naturally," says Kanaya as she sits up. She turns to Rose and leans in for a kiss, which is reciprocated with great enthusiasm. Though you beam as you watch the two of them, you cannot help but feel a slight tinge of envy. You come to the conclusion that your presence is no longer required.

"I'm… gonna go see if I can find Egbert," you say as you rise to your feet, prompting the other two to pull apart. "Guy's been givin' me a run for my money, what with all his zappin' in and outta existence. Don't you two get up to too much fiddlin' while I'm gone."

"I was under the impression that it was customary for fiddling to occur towards the end of the event," says Kanaya. She places an arm around Rose, whose eyes are narrowed, and leans in close to her. "At least that's how it went last time."

You chuckle as Rose turns red once more. Kanaya is the only person you know who can affect her in such a fashion. _So adorable!_ You wish that you could find someone who could do the same to you. As you walk away from the pair, you take a moment to get your bearings in the loud, crowded room.

When you first suggested a house party, the rest of your group were pretty sceptical. After all, there are only a few of you, and a house party with a mere eleven or twelve guests would be a rather sad excuse for a house party indeed. You then remembered that you had hundreds of guests waiting for you in your dreams, and the spidertroll had been more than happy to put you all to sleep. You have no idea to whom the house—or hive, as it should be called—belongs, but it makes no difference to you. As far as you are concerned, all that matters at a party is that everyone has a good time.

As you weave your way through the crowd of horned, empty-eyed ghosts, you notice a new song start to play, and you begin to bob your head in time with the beat. Nothing got you moving like terrible pop music of a Beforan variety. Amidst reckless and exaggerated dance moves, you survey your surroundings in search of Little Johnny Windsock. You snort as you notice some of the others struggling to keep ahold of their drinks, and you thank your past self for opting to go with shots rather than wine.

You come to a sudden stop when you spot a still figure standing alone in the very corner of the room. In spite of being quite large and well-built, his body language gives off an air of mildness and timidity. His head is adorned with a pair of very large horns that resemble those of a bull, and he is taking slow, occasional sips from a can of what you presume to be beer. Bemused, you begin to make your way towards him.

"Hey!" you call out as you grow near. "You all right?"

He glances up, his mouth open in a wide-eyed expression of surprise. "Uh… Are you talking to me?"

"Nah, I'm obviously talkin' to your invisible friend there," you say as you gesture towards the empty space beside him. He gives you a look of bafflement, which makes you smile. "How ya doin'?"

"Uh, fine, I guess," he replies. "I'm just kinda… enjoying the party by myself. It's been pretty cool so far, I think."

You place your hands upon your hips. "Okay, yeah, true, the party's fuckin' awesome, but… why are you by yourself?"

"Oh, uh, right." He looks down. "Um, I was with a few friends. They all, uh, went somewhere without me, but that's pretty customary for parties, I think? The whole point is to mix and maybe make completely new friends and increase the size of your social circle exponentially. Apparently."

You frown. "And how many people have you met so far?"

"Well… one, if we, uh, decide to include you." He gives you an innocent, toothy grin, which warms your heart, and you return the expression. "I don't know if you consider me a friend, but that's sort of, uh, irrelevant for all intents and purposes, I think."

You laugh and fold your arms. "Yeah, sure, whatever, I'd call you a friend. Don't even know your name yet, but what the hell."

"Yeah, okay, good point…" His cheeks flush a faint shade of brown. "I'm, uh, Tavros."

"Nice to meet, you, Tavros," you say, propping yourself up against the wall next to him. "Roxy's the name. Mind if I call you Tavs?"

"I don't see why not, but…" He chuckles. "I, uh, don't really see why either."

"Because it's cute," you say, giving him one of your finest winks, "and it's sorta my policy to give cute people the cutest fuckin' nicknames I can come up with."

He remains silent, his face browning even further, but he continues to smile, his expression coy. You take a moment to examine him in more detail, doing your best to keep your moment of observation discreet. _Quite the good-lookin' fella, in a dorky sorta way. Kinda reminds me of Egbert. Nice face. Pretty nice body. Great hair. Big horns… Oh, shit, he's lookin' at you. Say somethin' cool, Ro-Lal!_

"So, what you drinkin'?" you blurt out.

He glimpses down at the beer in his hand and grimaces. "I, uh, don't really know. It's one of your human soporifics that the human girl who looks like Jade but isn't Jade gave to me. I think it, uh, tastes pretty bad, but I've heard that it's meant to strengthen your self-esteem."

"Well," you say with a giggle, "that's one way of puttin' it. Haven't had anything else?"

"No," he says with a sigh, "I, uh, haven't been here for a particularly long period of time, for whatever that's worth in a place like this where time doesn't really… exist. I was with two of my old friends, their ancestors and the, uh, not-Jade girl, but yeah, they, uh, went somewhere. They left me this"—He gestures to the beer—"because they said they didn't want to, uh, mix drugs, I think."

"Crocker…" you say, shaking your head and rolling your eyes. "Never could resist partyin' hard, could ya?" You take the beer from Tavros and place it down on a nearby table. "Listen, you don't want any of that cheap shit. I can get you somethin' real fancy if you want." You lean in close and lower your voice. "Wanna see a magic trick?"

He gives you an odd, somewhat apprehensive look. "Um… okay."

"Right, get ready," you say, closing your eyes, tilting your head towards the ceiling and raising both of your arms in a theatrical display. You try your hardest to numb yourself to your surroundings, clearing your mind of all distractions and stray thoughts. After a few moments, only one thing remains in your head, afloat in a boundless ocean of nothingness. "Behold, the power of void!"

You open your eyes to see that you are now holding a martini in each hand, which fills you with a combination of relief and delight. _Thank fuck that worked._ You focus your attention on Tavros, who seems overjoyed.

"That was most definitely an amazing display of void magic!" he exclaims, laughing as he takes the glass from your right hand. "I think you'd make a very good wizard. Or, uh, would you be a witch? I think it depends on whether or not you think being a witch is a good thing, which is a pretty personal thing, I guess? A lot of people think it's terrible, but the witch in my, uh, session seemed to like it. Maybe you've seen her around? She's a seadweller."

"I fuckin' hate sea witches," you say with a scowl. "Can't get enough of wizards and mages, though. Got a whole archive of fic about ‘em. Not a mage by any chance, are you?"

He shakes his head. "No, I'm a, uh, page. A page of breath, although I, uh, don't really have any cool breathy powers. Nothing as amazing as your, uh, voidy ones."

"Breath, you say? And a page, too. What is it about breath and pages and bein' hot?" You give him another one of your prize winks, to which he looks amused. "Good to know you enjoyed my little show of martini magique. That's French, by the way."

"What's French?" he asks.

"Only the best thing ever invented by humankind," you reply. "Everything sounds fancier when you say it in French, Tavs. Now, watch as I make this martini disparaître!"

You take a sip of your drink, and he follows suit. His face lights up upon tasting the cocktail, which causes you to crack up. You throw an arm around him and start to move in time with the music once more. After a few moments, he begins to do the same, and the pair of you begin to approach the mass of bodies towards the centre of the room. It is not long before you have been swallowed by the crowd.

You both somehow manage to almost finish your drinks during the time that you are dancing. To your pleasant surprise, his moves are just as atrocious as yours, and he seems not to care. As the two of you are engaged in an absurd, four-way manoeuvre with a robot and her rather sweaty boyfriend, you notice Rose and Kanaya sitting by themselves by one of the far windows, and you smile. You come to the realisation that you no longer desire to find John.

"Listen…" you begin, leaning in close to Tavros and pushing away the other couple. "Do you… maybe… wanna go upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure!" he replies, his voice full of excitement. "This is my hive, so I, uh, can show you my respiteblock, which should be, uh, really cool!"

"Show me your what, now?" you ask.

He chuckles. "Uh, my bedroom."

You give him a flirtatious smile. "Very well then," you say as you take his free hand, making your best attempt at sounding provocative. "Lead the way!"

By the time that you have made your way upstairs, your martinis are finished. As you enter the respiteblock, you are unsure if you should laugh or not. The walls are plastered with posters of fairies and flying children, and the floor is littered with colourful cuddly toys, some of which appear to have been torn apart from the inside, leaving tiny pieces of wool strewn all over the carpet. _Must be a troll thing._ You follow Tavros over to a desk in the far corner, being careful not to tread on any trading cards or marbles.

Once the two of you have reached the desk, you put down your glass. He turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he never gets the opportunity to finish. You are already on him, your lips pressed against his and your eyes closed. Quite a lot of saliva is involved. _What the hell. We're both a bit tipsy._ You place one hand on his lower back, sliding it upwards to the back of his neck, and the other on his arm, gripping it. To your pleasant surprise, his musculature is quite defined. _Whoa, you'd think he'd been liftin' weights his entire life._

"I'd say you've got some pretty cool breathy powers…" you say in between kisses. "You're leavin' me completely breathless…" You are so engrossed in plastering your lips all over his neck, it takes you a while to notice that he is trying to get your attention.

"S-stop…"

_Oh, shit. Please don't pull a Strider on me._

You pull away from him, your eyes wide. "What's wrong? Fuck, I thought you… I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he says, looking at the floor. "I didn't think you, uh, wanted… well, to do _that_."

"Don't apologise," you say, giving him a tender touch on the arm. "But… lemme get this straight. We're at a party where literally everybody's drinkin' and havin' sloppy makeouts, I ask you to come upstairs with me to a bedblock or whatever where we're all alone, and you thought we weren't gonna do some fiddlin'?"

"No, I, uh, didn't have… that in mind." He blushes. "I, uh, didn't think you did either."

You frown. "Then what did you think I wanted to do with you?"

"I don't know… Maybe, perhaps, chat a bit and play some Fiduspawn or something? You just seemed really nice and I thought that maybe you'd like to become, uh, better friends. I've never been in a proper relationship before. Not in any quadrant. A couple of people have been… interested, but I, uh, wasn't too sure about either of them. Everything you did just now was a bit, uh, much for me, I think. Not to say you're not, uh, pretty or funny anything, because you really are, and…"

He glances up again, out of words, and you meet his blank gaze. _Right, Ro-Lal, a cute boy needs your help, and you'll be damned if you're gonna let someone leave one of your killer parties upset._

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" you say, giving him a kind smile. "Honestly, I think I might have even been goin' a bit too fast for myself… I'm literally down for whatever, though. Hell, I'd read you an excerpt from my wizardfic if had my journal with me. Oh, wait, hold on…"

You close your eyes and clear your mind. It is not long before you have a fresh copy of _Wizardy Herbert and the Man with the Golden Gun_ sitting in your hands. You glance up at Tavros, who appears cheerful once more. Noticing the lack of chairs or beds in the room, you decide to sit cross-legged on the floor, beckoning for him to join you. He places his glass on the desk before also having a seat, staring at your prized novella with eagerness in his eyes.

"Uh, sorry there isn't anywhere else to sit," he says, flashing you an apologetic look. "Before I died, I couldn't use my legs, so I, uh, didn't feel the need to get any chairs or anything."

"You used to be in a wheelchair?!" you exclaim. "Oh, Tavs, you poor thing!"

"Honestly, I, uh, got used to my four wheel device in the end," he says. "It _was_ kinda my fault I was, uh, paralysed in the first place anyway."

"You can't say that!" you cry, horrified. "Listen, Tavs, we all make mistakes and do reckless things, but you can't beat yourself up forever for… having an accident."

"Well, it, uh, wasn't an accident, exactly," he says. "It was Vriska who paralysed me, but I, uh, was the one who annoyed her into doing it, so it's still sorta my fault?"

You remain silent. "So," you begin after a while, your voice strained, "what you're tellin' me is that spidertroll is the one who incapacitated you for life? On purpose? Has she ever apologised?"

"Well, she said sorry for killing me but—"

"She fuckin' killed you too?!" You throw your journal to the floor. "What the fuck! Tavs, that's not right! I swear to God, when I wake up, I'm gonna have a lot of words for that fuckin' witch!"

"Roxy, please," he says, gesturing for you to keep your voice down, "I don't want you to, uh, make a big deal out of it or anything—"

"You bet your ass I'm gonna make a big deal out of it!" you shout. "This isn't the sort of thing that you can just sweep under the rug, Tavs!"

"Okay, fine, but…" He looks you in the eye. "But please, uh, could you not make a big deal about it right here at this very moment? I was… having fun just, uh, talking to you and relaxing, and I don't really wanna think about all of that… stuff right now. We're at a party, and I just want you and I to have a good time."

You go quiet, before letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, okay, I'm sorry about that," you say. "I just… It sounded so awful, and I didn't want you to feel like I didn't care or anythin', and one of my best friends just recently went through this really shitty thing with her brother, and… Sorry."

"It's okay," he says as he gives you a bashful look. "Thanks for, uh, understanding." Without provocation, he leans forwards and gives you a very brief kiss on the cheek. As he pulls away, you can see that his face is coloured by an intense blush. You imagine that your face is most likely doing the same, going by the warmth that you can feel radiating from it.

"So," you say after a while, sliding your journal aside for later, "wizardfic's always better after you've had a bit more to drink." You wink, before placing your hands in your lap and studying the assortment of flashy cards and toys in front of you. "What's Fiduspawn?"


End file.
